the fire to her ice
by glitch-e-r-749
Summary: harry was on the astronomy tower when she came. they had been together in secret for a while now. she was the ice to cool his fire and him the fire to warm her ice. together they would be free disclaimer: I do not own hp or characters


**one-shot harry/daphne. it shows the true side of harry, shown only to the one he trusts. the side of him under all those masks and facades. this is the pain felt by harry and the one there to help.**

harry sat on the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the side and bottle of firewhisky standing next to him. his shoulders were slumped and his back was resting on the side of the tower. he looked so fragile, no, his eyes showed his true pain. those were the eyes of a broken man. broken by the betrayals of his 'best-friends' and 'family'. only one cared of him and in return they shared their trust, bond so deep that it was unbreakable.

light footsteps brought him out of his pained thoughts. deep emerald eyes stared into piercing ice-blue ones. He had expected to find her here this night. She knew of the things in the wizarding world throughout the summer. She saw the pain in his eyes, hidden carefully between layers and layers of facades and masks. Only she saw through them all. Only she saw the deep pain within. She came here to help him and be with him. She was the only one who could.

she looked at him not with pity, nor sympathy, but with care and deep concern. She placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder and allowed him to speak. Like a broken dam the words flooded out with the pain and sorrow he held deep within for no one but her to see. Because she was the only one who understood. She was the only one who could sooth his pain.

"I can't take it any longer daphne," harry whispered "they call me a liar, freak, prat. what's the difference between here and the dursley's? they just have to start using physical abuse and it'll be exactly the same. I hate it that no one believes me, that no one understands. and worse still the one's who believe me are my so-called 'best friends' and 'family'. I bet everyone would love to know how Dumbledore Hermione Ron and Molly all steal from my vault huh. greedy bastards" harry finished bitterly.

"the difference between there and here is that I'm here. I understand your pain and you more than anybody else would. And as for the school students, I'd like to see their response if they ever see you the way I do" she replied. No words needed to be spoken to show the truth in her words or the bond that only forged thicker, or the gratitude that showed in his eyes.

Their relationship was so wrong but yet so right. The Gryffindor golden boy and slytherin ice queen. But they were perfect for each other; he was the fire to warm her ice, and she the ice too cool down his raging fire. They had been friends and their bond started, a thin white string in their second year when he had stopped malfoy and his cronies from hurting her for not listening to him. Since then, they had met up most nights, nights like these, to share their sorrows and and derive comfort from each other before being shoved back into the sea of pain that was their lives.

She told him how she was always second best to her sister, how Astoria always stole everything from her, whether it was an achievement or even a book that she had that was special to her, like her grandmother's journal, the only person in the family who cared for her before she died. She told him everything, even her deepest darkest secrets and fears, even the fact that her father frequently put her under the Tororis curse, a non-illegal version of the cruciatus curse.

In return, he would tell her how his friends plotted against him, how ginny was going to put him under love potions, how Dumbledore and molly had created an illegal marridge contract. How money was stolen from him. He told her everything and anything, like his fears that he would lose the war or be forced as a slave for ginny for as long as he lived. Like how he was afraid that he would never break out of the thick web of manipulations and lies that was his life, how he was scared that he could never be his own man. He told her of his abuse at the dursley's, how he would be beaten 'till the brink of death, how he would be treated worse than a badly enslaved house-elf and how he would be starved and whipped mercilessly.

They sat there for hours to come, talking about life and how they were coping. Letting the tears of sadness and pain flow freely down their eyes. It was ok for them to cry, as long as they were together, it was their release from life, these nights and they cherished it. Many people thought crying was a weakness but they knew better; it showed that they were not afraid to mourn for their losses and it made them stronger.

It was always them against the world, but they knew that as long as they were together, it would be alright. For he was the fire to her ice


End file.
